The People in My Life
by littlevamp
Summary: Drabbles/one-shots containing some of the people in Wesker's life: some drive him crazy, others make his blood boil, but in the end, he knows he's appreciated. Just some randomness. Requests encouraged.
1. Alpha vs Bravo

**Hey, everyone! So, I've been having all these little ideas lately, and they won't leave me alone: it's like having a bunch goldfish that want to be fed all the time -_- It's annoying! Therefore, I've decided to "feed the goldfish" and write down these ideas for all my readers to enjoy! ^^ These will be little drabbles/one-shots that probably won't be anything more than just that (i.e. not full-length stories). Red and Black will continue to be updated until its completion, but until then, I wanted to write stuff with Wesker in them; we all love him after all ^^. Hopefully these will keep you entertained between updates of R and B. Enjoy! ^^**

_**Italics for flashbacks/thoughts.**_

* * *

**Alpha vs. Bravo**

Today was the day—the STARS Baseball game between the Alpha and Bravo team, taking place a few blocks down from the RPD at a Little League field. It couldn't have come sooner for Chris. A few weeks back, he had talked to Forest about getting the teams together to play for fun—just something to break the monotony at work—thinking it would give everyone a chance to let loose. Enrico seemed pleased with the idea, seeing as how hard Bravo had been working lately, and agreed to put aside a Saturday to join his team. Now that Bravo was all in, Chris had to be the one (under a unanimous vote) to invite Wesker, which, normally, wouldn't be such a bother if his dear captain's black storm cloud hadn't ruined everybody's mood.

_Wesker placed his weight on his palms as he leaned forward on his desk, his face rippling in anger as he argued with Chief Irons. "You don't need STARS to do a drug bust, Irons. Why don't you send out your expendables instead? I'm sure they'd be more than happy to do _something._"_

_ Irons wiped the sweat off his brows with a handkerchief, scrunching his tomato red face into a scowl. "I suggest you watch that tone of yours, _Captain_, before I suspend you for insubordination." Wesker's nails dug into the wooden desk, but Irons ignored it and continued. "You don't have the authority to override my orders, so don't waste your energy telling me what I don't need. You always seem to think the department hierarchy doesn't apply to you. I warn you that if you can't keep tabs on that slippery mind of yours, I'll have you discharged and replaced within the week. It's as simple as that."_

_ Wesker stood to his full height, relaxing his facial muscles just a tad. "Really? Then you'll have to forgive me, as my mind tends to slip when confronted with bull-shit. As for the matter at hand, I refuse to send my teams to do a job that involves arresting a bunch of teenagers, who are too high to know their own names. A lot of effort went into putting this team together, and I'm not going to embarrass them by executing such a ridiculous order. It insults them as officers and insults me as their captain. STARS wasn't created to be abused, Irons; it was created for special operations deemed too dangerous for your expendables to handle." Wesker crossed his arms and leaned forward, dangerously crossing into Irons' personal space. "If you want to fire me, do it."_

_ It came out sounding like a dare for Irons to try, but the chief made no effort to call Wesker's bluff. He simply stared, long and hard, into the captain's black lenses, staring into oblivion as his expression became neutral. He knew he couldn't fire Wesker; threats did nothing but amuse him and did little to bend him to Irons' will. As chief, he took pride in making sure all personnel—officers and staff alike—knew he ran the show; he had the power and everyone submitted to him…everyone but Albert Wesker._

_ Irons scoffed and backed away from Wesker, stopping when he reached the exit. "I do hope you treat the heads of Umbrella with more respect." He looked over his shoulder, a fox-like grin on his face. "I would simply hate to see anything happen to you if they found out how disobedient you are. Perhaps you should put more effort into staying on my good side."_

_ Wesker smirked. "On the contrary, I think it would be in your best interest to stay on _my_ good side. You're nothing more than Umbrella's doormat. On a whim, I can have you removed from this building and disposed of without a second thought. All it takes is one phone call." Irons' face became hard, inevitable defeat sinking into his mind. "The ball is in your court."_

_ Having heard enough, Irons opened the door and left Wesker's office without another word. The Alpha captain stood in his doorway and—along with his team—watched as Irons nearly stomped his way out, not bothering to close the office door. Several RPD officers walked by and peeked in with confused expressions, wondering what the hell had set their chief on fire._

_ Chris stood and made his way to the door. "Alright, guys, back up. Nothing to see here," he shooed and shut the door, despite their curiosity. "Buncha nosey bastards."_

_ "I'll say," Jill said as she typed away on her computer. "They've got nothing better to do, I guess."_

_ "No kidding," Barry agreed without looking up from his work._

_ Chris crossed his arms as he settled back against the door, looking over at his captain still standing in the doorway. Wesker didn't seem to be fuming, so that was a good sign. He usually slammed his door and stayed in his office for the remainder of the day, and if he did come out, it was to use the restroom or refill his coffee._

_ Just as Wesker was about to retreat into his office…_

_ "Uh, Captain?" Chris asked with uncertainty, fearful that Wesker would start to shout. He was put at ease when Wesker remained in his position, attention on Chris. "I was just wondering-well, we were wondering if you had any plans on the 24__th__?"_

_ Wesker's brows furrowed at the question. "That's two weeks from now, Chris. How would I know?"_

_ Chris pressed his lips together, trying to ignore Joseph's snickering in the corner. He pressed on. "Well, it's just that we—"_

_ "And just who is this 'we' you keep referring to?"_

_ "Uh, Bravo and Alpha—"_

_ Wesker crossed his arms, impatience searing his every word. "—and what about Bravo and Alpha?"_

_ "Well, if you would let me finish my damn sentence, I'll tell you," Chris said, impatience easily turning into anger. Wesker took a deep breath, calming his boiling temper. He gave a nod to Chris. "Alright…now Bravo and Alpha—the 'we' in this conversation—were talking about having a baseball game between both teams on the 24__th__. So far, all of Bravo and most of Alpha are in…"_

_ The word 'most' stuck out to Wesker, and immediately, he knew where this conversation was going. He shook his head, stopping Chris from continuing. "I'm sorry, I don't play baseball."_

_ Chris mouth fell open. "But you didn't even let me finish!"_

_ "You said 'most of Alpha,' which tells me that the only person left to make it all of Alpha is myself, right?" Chris said nothing. Wesker dipped his head. "I must respectfully decline."_

_ "But Wesker—"_

_ "I said I don't play baseball, Chris," Wesker retorted, causing everyone but Chris to flinch at the amplified volume of his voice. "Now get back to work before I lose my temper." He slammed the door behind him without another word._

* * *

"Looks like Bravo's early," Barry said to the Alpha occupants as he parked the minivan next to Forest's truck and Enrico's Camaro. "Alright, kiddies—out." The minivan quickly emptied. Chris moved around to the back of the van and opened the rear door, grabbing the equipment bag and a faded navy blue baseball cap, before closing the door. He threw on his hat and made his way to the field.

Forest was hitting fly balls to Richard, Edward, and Kenneth in the outfield; Enrico was sitting in the dugout lacing up his cleats and looked up when the Alphas entered the field.

"Glad you guys could make it." Enrico stood and gave Barry a handshake. "I just wanna tell you, if there's any consolation you'll need after losing this game—"

Barry laughed and pushed Enrico away. "Don't be so sure of yourself. You're playing against the elite, remember."

"Right. And who's your best player, Jill?"

Jill's grip on the bat tightened as she smiled playfully at the Bravo captain. "Watch it, Enrico. I have a mean swing."

Enrico chuckled, pulling the bill of her cap down. "Easy, little tiger."

Forest _meowed _as he neared the group, giving Jill a toothy grin.

"Tigers don't meow, idiot," she said, pushing the bill upwards, and raising a brow at Forest's choice of attire. "A muscle shirt? You're gonna fry out here. It's, like, 90 degrees."

Forest smoothed over his mullet, sticking his chest out purposely. "I could take my shirt off c_ompletely _if that will make you feel better, Jill." He gave a wink that made Jill roll her eyes and turn away. Everyone erupted into a fit of laughter as Jill picked up her cleats.

"I'll be in the _winner's _dugout," she called over her shoulder, spitting her tongue out at Forest.

"Oh, guys, I almost forgot something," Chris said as he finished unpacking the equipment. "Lend me the keys real quick, Barry." Barry tossed the keys to Chris. He left for the van and returned with a cardboard box. He gave Barry his keys and sat the box on the ground. Opening it, he pulled out red and blue shirts, each numbered with the last names of everyone on the team; printed on the front were the team names according to their color—Alpha was red, Bravo was blue. He handed a blue shirt numbered 1 with Marini on the back and a "C" on the right breast to Enrico.

"My sister Claire had these made for us." He handed a red shirt numbered 2 with Burton on the back to Barry. "Guess she thought we should play in style."

"Dude, props to your sister," Forest said as he grazed his fingers over the letters of his last name. "These are awesome."

"Look, they even have the STARS logo on the sleeve," Jill added as she rubbed the material between her fingers. "She really outdid herself, Chris."

"She's a Redfield, what do you expect?" Chris removed his white tee and replaced it with his red Alpha one. He picked up the box, ready to toss it in the dumpster, and stopped. There was a red shirt inside. Chris held in a sigh. Wesker. Claire had made one for him, too. It was too bad he wasn't here to join the festivities.

When everyone had geared up, Richard flipped a coin to see who would bat first. It landed tails, in favor of Bravo, and the Alphas took to the field.

"Remember, Redfield, each team pitches to their own," Enrico called as the Alphas jogged to the mound for a huddle.

"Got it!" Chris joined the huddle. "We're short a man, so I'll cover shortstop and second. Jill will get third, Barry's got first, Brad's catcher, and Frost will cover the outfield."

"Why do I have to be catcher?" Brad asked, slightly irritated that he was forced to wear that uncomfortable gear.

"'Cause you can't run," Joseph jabbed.

"Everyone has to rotate, Brad. You'll only be catcher for an inning or two. Now let's get out there and beat some Bravos!"

* * *

The score was 6-7 with Bravo leading, top of the 9th inning, with two outs. Enrico was up to bat. He gave the bat a few swings before stepping up to the plate. "This one's going to you, Frost!" He yelled, receiving a thumbs-up from Joseph in center field.

"Here it comes, Captain," Richard said as he tossed the ball to Enrico. A resonant _cling_ noise rang out as the ball collided with the aluminum bat, sending the ball just over Chris' head and into center field. Enrico took off to first, and Joseph extended his glove forward and dove, catching the ball within the webbed part of his mit.

"You got lucky, Frost!" Enrico said as he made his way for the dugout.

"We're up!" Chris yelled and motioned for the team to bring it in. He used the back of his hand to wipe the dripping sweat off his forehead as he jogged to the dugout. He slowed to a stop when he saw his captain seated at the bench, one leg crossed over the other, wearing a black tee that looked as though it was about to rip from the protruding muscles underneath, and shorts—

Chris had to do a double-take. Yup—shorts. Cargo shorts, to be more precise, and surprisingly tanned, muscular legs.

_I'll be damned._

"Get a load of the captain," Barry huffed as he stopped next to Chris. Wesker's flat-lined lips curved into smirk as his team entered the dugout.

"My, what a lovely day to play baseball," he mused as Chris grabbed a Gatorade out of the ice chest.

"I guess you wouldn't know, huh?" Chris took a gulp of his drink and released a refreshing 'ahh.' "You don't _play_ baseball."

Wesker raised his brows in question. "Who said I was going to play?"

Chris closed the cap to his drink and slammed it on the bench. He reached into the cardboard box and pulled out Wesker's shirt. "Here," he said bitterly, throwing it at Wesker's chest.

Wesker didn't bother to look at it. "I believe I'm already wearing a shirt, Chris, but thanks."

Chris tightened his fists and grinded his teeth together. "You ungrateful—"

"C'mon, pal," Barry said as he pulled Chris to the side. "You're on deck." Jill took a seat next to Wesker on the bench, throwing a glance at her captain and wondering why he was behaving like that. Everyone was having fun and with a few words, Wesker had managed to put Chris in a bad mood…over a shirt. Nonetheless, it wasn't like Wesker to instigate and prod Chris for no reason. If and when the two got into an argument, it was for a legitimate reason and Wesker certainly wasn't the one to start it; if anything, he always avoided a confrontation unless he had no choice but to engage in one.

"It's rude to stare, Jill." Wesker kept his eyes on Brad—a swing and a miss. Strike two.

Jill pretended she didn't hear her captain and reached into her gym bag for sunflower seeds. She popped a few in her mouth and offered the bag to Wesker. "Want some?"

Wesker turned slightly and eyed the bag for a second, before cupping a hand towards Jill. She poured until he nodded for her to stop. He popped a handful in his mouth, cracking and spitting the shells off to the side.

"Aren't you going to put your shirt on? I mean, even if you don't play, I'm sure it would mean a lot to the team, especially to Chris. We could use the support."

Wesker seemed irritated about the whole shirt ordeal and decided to humor her _and _Chris for the sake of shutting their mouths. He finished off the rest of his seeds and unfolded the shirt. He looked slightly taken aback when he saw his last name in bold, white letters across the back, and the number 1 just below it. He turned it over and saw the word ALPHA in cursive, white letters and a capital "C" on the right breast. A thumb grazed over the fresh lettering and lingered on the "C" for a moment longer than it should have.

"Chris made these?"

"Claire did, but Chris brought them for all of us to play in. Such a nice gesture…" Jill put the bag of seeds aside and made way for the ice chest. Brad entered the dugout, a hint of disappointment on his face as he planted himself on the bench with a sigh. The blond looked over at Chris as he stepped up to the plate, a burning flame in his eyes as he swung and missed his first pitch.

"Strike one, Chris," Kenneth said as he tossed the ball to Joseph on the mound.

"Don't choke up, Redfield!" Enrico called from first.

"Watch out, it's little Chrissy Redfield up to bat!" Forest yelled from third, causing all the Bravos to laugh.

"Keep on laughing, girls," Chris mumbled to himself. Joseph threw the pitch. Chris swung and made contact, but fouled it away. Strike two. "Fuck."

"Don't listen to them, pal, especially the chunky captain on first," Barry said with a laugh and clapped his hands. "C'mon, Chris."

Just as Joseph was about to pitch, Wesker stepped on deck. "Time out!"

"Uh-oh," Forest yelled, "big bad captain on the field!"

"What are you doing?" Chris growled as Wesker stepped over to him. "We're in the middle of the game. _Spectators_ must sit in the—"

"Chris, don't make this difficult—"

"—You're not wearing a uniform. Get off the field, Wesker." Chris held the bat close with one hand.

"Oh, you want me to wear this?" He took the shirt hanging from his back pocket and waved it in Chris face. "Fine." He shoved his glasses into Chris' palm, and pulled his black tee over his head. Snickers and whistles from the field sounded and Wesker shrugged them off with a roll of his eyes. He tossed the black tee to Barry and smoothed out his Alpha one, tugging it down over his abs. "There. I'm playing now. Satisfied?" Chris didn't know if he should laugh or continue to argue with Wesker. "Now choke up on the bat. For God's sakes, Chris, you swing like Enrico."

"Ooooh, did you hear that, Enrico?" Joseph called over his shoulder. "The captain says you hit like a bitch." The Alpha dugout exploded with laughter, and even the members of Bravo couldn't help but join in.

"A what?!"

Wesker opened his mouth to clarify, but decided against it. Whatever riled up the other team would be to the Alpha's advantage. And as much as Wesker opposed using expletives, there was some truth to the insult, so he might as well let it be. It put everyone in a better mood.

"Well it's a good thing you told me, Wesker," Chris began. "I don't wanna hit like that pansy." He gave his captain a smile that earned him a trademark smirk.

He took his glasses from Chris and placed them over his nose. "Then hit the ball and get on base." He indicated for Joseph to resume with a wave-like gesture and stood next to Barry behind the chain-linked fence.

"I thought you didn't play baseball, Captain?" Barry couldn't help but grin as he nudged Wesker in the shoulder. Wesker kept his eyes on Chris, smirk still plastered on his face.

"I don't—"

Joseph pitched the ball.

"—But what kind of captain would I be if I didn't back my team up?"

Chris made contact and swung with all his might. The ball went airborne and sailed right over Richard's head in the outfield.

"Go Chris!" Jill screamed from the dugout. Chris passed first, looking back and forth between second and Richard, who scooped the ball up and launched it to Edward. Chris rounded second, pushing himself to beat the ball to third.

"Throw it!" Forest held out his mit, and just by a hair Chris touched third base before he was tagged.

"Yeah!" Barry clapped and gave Chris a nod of approval. "Good hustle!" He turned to Wesker. "You're up, Captain."

Wesker's brows furrowed, almost forgetting that he agreed to play the game, and picked up a bat leaning against the fence. He took a couple practice swings and stepped up to the plate.

"Well, wouldja look at those legs!" Enrico threw back a laugh. "You should wear shorts more often, Wesker."

"Wesker's got nice legs, Enrico. You're just jealous," Jill said playfully.

"Ready, Captain?" Joseph asked as he readied his pitch. Wesker gave a nod and tightened his hold on the bat.

"Fly's open, Captain," Kenneth said, trying to contain his laughter as he waited for the ball. Wesker shot a glance downwards and looked up in time to barely miss the ball, frowning when he heard it smack into the mit. Kenneth stood and took a few steps away from the plate, laughing to himself. The blond slowly brought down the bat and stared daggers at the Bravo member.

"What was that, Wesker?!" Chris cupped his hands to amplify his voice. "That ball was good!"

"Ha! Wrong balls to keep your eyes on, Wesker!" Enrico was slowly inching his way over Wesker's patience line; he hadn't kept his mouth shut since he arrived. If he had known Enrico personally before his induction into STARS as the Bravo team captain, Wesker never would've brought him aboard. Having Chris and Joseph on his team was more than enough trouble, but to have a captain acting just as foolish, if not worse, was something Wesker could not and would not tolerate.

"Why don't you keep that shit to yourself?" Joseph jabbed back. "We all know you have a ball fetish, but you don't need to make Captain Wesker uncomfortable!"

"Yeah, Enrico! I've seen the way you looked at Wesker during our briefings!" Chris added, Forest laughing uncontrollably right beside him.

"You go to hell, Redfield! Everyone knows about your obsession with him!"

"Calling the kettle black, aren't we? You're the one who keeps staring at his balls!"

Wesker removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes in frustration as Enrico and Chris continued to argue. "Oh, the primitive minds on this squad..." He said to himself, slipping on his glasses and taking his stance. "…Like two monkeys fighting over a banana…" He whistled to Joseph. "Pitch the ball, Frost."

Joseph readied his pitch once more and threw the ball at Wesker. The _cling_ brought everyone's attention back to the game as the ball soared far into the outfield. Richard whipped around and started after it as Wesker booked it for first.

"Move your ass, Chris!" The edge in Wesker's voice forced Chris to stop watching Richard scramble for the ball and run to home. By the time the marksman had crossed home, Wesker had rounded second. Deciding to bypass Edward, Richard took a few hops forward and launched his arm, catapulting the ball towards home, hoping it would reach Kenneth at the plate.

"Go, Wesker, go!" Jill shouted as she ran up alongside Barry, clapping in excitement.

Wesker touched third, and pushed himself down the homestretch. As he neared, the shouting amplified ten-fold. That meant the ball was near its destination. Wesker wanted to look up and see just how far along it was, but it would ruin the momentum he had going and he just couldn't afford to be distracted twice.

"Slide, Wesker!" Wesker put his weight on his right leg and slid, skin grinding against the brick. The moment his heel made contact with the plate, Wesker felt Kenneth's glove pressed against his ankle.

"Safe!" Joseph screamed at the top of his lungs and charged Wesker, who winced slightly as he stood, pain traveling up the side of his leg, burning like someone had set it on fire; blood trickled from the wound down to his ankle, fading into his black sock.

Joseph gave Wesker a quick squeeze around his shoulders and pulled back just as fast, knowing he could be sentenced to death row any moment. Wesker clenched his jaw and stiffened like a board upon contact. "We won, Captain! We won! Woooo! In your face, Bravo!" He removed his bandana and ran the bases, waving it in the air in victory. Barry gave Wesker's shoulder a slap that caused him to jerk forward, to which he growled in return.

"No, don't worry about me bleeding out over here," Wesker said sarcastically over his shoulder and raised a brow when he saw Jill approach from behind, wrapping her arms around his middle and smashing her face into his back.

"Jill," he warned and wrapped his calloused hands around her delicate wrists, slowing prying them from his body. "Let go, Jill." She gripped tighter. Chris joined her side and wrapped an arm around Wesker's neck, pulling him close and—doing the unthinkable—rubbing his fist across Wesker's scalp, ruffling golden locks out of place and ruining his once impeccable hairstyle.

A noogie.

Chris had given Wesker a noogie.

The Alpha captain took a deep breath, calming his rising anger as Chris' smile widened. "Chris, I'm going to kill—"

Splash!

It happened faster than anyone anticipated. After passing home, Joseph quickly ran for Bravo's small ice chest and dumped the remaining glacier cold water over Wesker's body, drenching Chris and Jill along with him.

"Oh shit!" Forest put a hand to his mouth in surprise, keeping his eyes glued to the scene before him.

Wesker licked the water from his lips, wearing a hard expression as he kept his eyes on Chris. Blond hair pooled over Wesker's forehead down to his brows, from the sides of his temples and just barely grazing the tops of his ears. His red shirt clung to his body, neatly outlining the corded muscle against the fabric. He slowly brought his hand up to remove his glasses; cold blue eyes narrowed in on Chris, chilling his body more than the freezing water could.

_We're dead._

Wesker blinked a few times out of reflex when drops passed through his lashes, and swept his hair back into its usual style with one motion, eyes never leaving Chris. Wesker sighed. "And here I assumed that _you_ were the only one capable of making my blood boil, and miraculously, walking away unscathed," he said firmly, and then looked around at the other members of the team. "How foolish I was to assume incorrectly." He slipped his lenses on and planted his hands on his hips, earning a few smiles back at him. "I suppose I will let this go for now—granted we aren't in uniform, so I won't be able to punish you until Monday." He rubbed his chin in thought. "Fifty laps around the track should suffice. Wouldn't you all agree?" There was that smirk; that "entitled, superior-being smirk."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Chris blurted out, clenching his fists at his sides. "Just for _that_?"

"What do you mean 'just for that'? You're at my mercy, but again, it's never enough for you, is it, Chris? Sixty laps."

"Just shut your mouth, Chris," Joseph whispered at his side, already pissed off about having to run a damn marathon.

"Why?! That's bull-shit!"

"As is your pathetic excuse for an argument." Wesker couldn't help but find amusement in Chris' petty rebellion. "Therefore, everyone will run sixty laps, and upon the completion of yours, you will join me in the office—once everyone has gone home to rest—and sit by me until I've signed off every report that's sitting on my desk. And," he rolled his shoulders, "since I've been rather tired lately, I had decided to skip a few days of paperwork; as captain, I receive twice as much as any of you." A devilish smile formed as Chris bit his lips in anger. "So I'd imagine the stack is pretty high by now."

Chris was about to open his mouth to continue his vain attempt at defying Wesker, but closed it as soon as he laid eyes on the members of his team. Physically, each of them look like they were bracing whatever Wesker wanted to hit them with next; their eyes, however, pleaded, almost begged Chris to say no more. As a unit, they were forced to endure the punishment they were given, be it from the mistake of a single member or the whole group. Regardless, it was all for one.

"Ok, Wesker," Chris replied after some time, nodding in reverence to his captain. "Sixty laps and babysitting in the office. Got it."

"A very wise choice, Chris." Wesker couldn't help but smirk as he wrung the hem of his tee. "Now that we've settled this pointless dispute, I think I'm ready for some nourishment. After _winning _the game, I've become rather famished." He started for the dugout to retrieve his black tee in exchange for the soaking red one. When he realized no one had followed, he turned to his side, regarding the team with narrowed eyes. "I take it none of you are hungry?"

"Uh-yeah, yeah! Where to, Wesker?" Enrico jogged towards the Alpha, pulling his keys from his gym shorts. "The diner on Fourth?"

Wesker pulled the wet shirt over his head, wringing it dry with a twist of his hands. "I need a scotch and a good steak. How about The Cattle Drive down Blue View Boulevard?"

Enrico scoffed. "Hey, we have decent salaries, but we're not rich, alright? Let's keep it real. What about Charlie's in downtown? They've got a mean cut of beef."

"As long as I can have my steak and scotch…I'll see you there." He slipped his black tee on and held the wet one firmly in his hand.

"You got it." Enrico turned to the rest of the team. "We're going to Charlie's! Whoever wants to go, meet us there and grab a table!" The Bravo captain grabbed his gym bag and started for his Camaro.

Forest came up behind Chris, who hadn't moved from home plate and gave him a firm pat on the back. "See you there, man." Chris gave a nod of acknowledgement and watched Forest pack all of Bravo's equipment into the back of his truck. Kenneth and Edward took the back and passenger seats, securing themselves with seatbelts, before Forest started the engine and drove off.

While the rest of Alpha began loading their gym bags and ice chest into the minivan, Chris found himself moving towards his captain until they stood side by side. He peered over at Wesker and noticed his lingering gaze on the bold letters of his last name printed on his Alpha shirt.

"So, uh…y-you don't have to hold onto that, Wesker." Chris held his hand out. "I'm sure you don't want it—"

"It's quite an unusual shade of red, don't you think?" He turned to Chris casually, holding the shirt aloft.

"Well…I guess—"

A few honks sounded from the lot. "C'mon, Chris!" Joseph shouted from the passenger seat.

"Go on," Wesker said and threw the shirt over his shoulder.

"Aren't you coming?"

Wesker gave Chris a long look before nodding towards the minivan. "Go. I'll be along as soon I clean up." He gestured to his leg. When Chris didn't budge, Wesker sighed. "Honestly, Chris…"

"Fine…but I'm saving you a seat," Chris said as he was walking away. Wesker watched the minivan pull out of the parking lot and out of sight. He pulled the Alpha shirt from his shoulders and gripped it tightly in his hand, smirking to himself as he headed for his car.

* * *

**So, this is my first RE drabble. I didn't like it as much as I thought, but maybe you guys think differently :p I wanted to show the STARS members outside the RPD, and how they reacted to each other off duty…sadly, Wesker was in for it haha I wanted this drabble to portray Wesker, not only as the leader of Alpha, but one who's included with his team no matter what. Could you tell he didn't want to give up the shirt, or why he couldn't take his eyes off his own name? He even wanted to go eat with them afterwards lol He wouldn't admit it, but he felt appreciated, even if it was a measly shirt that made him feel so haha Reviews are appreciated but not required :D Requests/ideas are accepted, so don't be shy to PM me or Facebook me :D Head to my profile! :D Thanks a bunch! – Lil V.**


	2. Another Day at the Office

**Hello peeps! Sorry for the long delay: I've been so busy with work, finding another job, and writing for this magazine; plus trying to find time to polish up my screenplay. Those of you who Facebook me and talk with me via PM know I've been struggling a bit with Red and Black; rest assured, the update is coming, and I apologize for the long wait. Any who, here's another drabble for the Wesker lovers. A little office banter might do you all some good ;D. Hope you guys enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Another Day at the Office**

"It's just a picture, Chris," Jill said with a roll of her eyes as her fingers clicked and clacked away on the computer keys. Ever since the STARS team had taken their group picture, Chris had fussed—every day since then—about his hair, and how much better it _could have_ come out. No, it wasn't the fact that Wesker had put Chris, Jill and Joseph on the bottom row for goofing off and making faces while the pictures were being taken. And no, it wasn't the spine tingling fact that Wesker insisted (that sadistic bastard) to stand behind them (more precisely, directly behind Jill) to make sure they behaved until the photographer was finished. No, it was Chris' hair—his _hair_! It wasn't bad enough that their captain was threatening them the entire time with discharge or some workout that made the Navy Seals look bad—God forbid Chris thought about his teammates' well-being over his hair.

Jill continued. "Honestly, you're more worried about your look than I am."

"If that's not saying something…" Joseph added, ducking behind his computer monitor to avoid an incoming paper ball.

"Shut up, Frost," Chris said, already compressing another piece of paper in his palms. "_You _obviously don't know what it means to look good, considering that rag you always wear on your head—" Chris chucked the ball, hitting the back of Joseph's monitor.

"Hey! Asshole…" Joseph rolled his own paper ball. "You should talk. At least my hair doesn't look like some dude came all over it—" He threw the ball, hitting Chris right on the nose.

"Frost!" Jill covered her ears and scrunched her face in disgust. "God, if you're going to act so juvenile, at least take it outside the office."

"Awe, what's wrong, Jill?" Joseph taunted. "Does "man talk" make you uncomfortable?"

"You're not a real man, so I wouldn't know."

"_Finally_, someone agrees with me," Chris chuckled along with Jill as they gave an 'air five' to each other from across the room.

Joseph rolled his eyes as he sat back in his chair, propping his feet on the desk. "Oh sure, you two get to tag team, huh? And what, I get Barry," he gave a nod in Barry's direction, who looked up at the mention of his name, "and Chicken, who have yet to do _anything_ to aid my cause."

Barry gave a hearty laugh and smacked Chris on the shoulder playfully. "Get a load of this guy," he said with a gesture of his thumb. "The hell are you talking about, Frost? _Cause_. Cause my ass!" Another laugh escaped Barry and with a shake of his head (from disbelief), he wiped his watery eyes. "Damn, you need help."

"I know. I've kinda been stressing that…"

Brad scoffed. "He means mentally."

Joseph planted his feet on the ground and turned his chair towards Brad, who looked up from his work, immediately regretting his tough-guy attitude when Joseph's foot pressed against his computer chair.

Brad's eyes widened. "Frost…" Joseph didn't wait to hear Brad plead for forgiveness as he shoved the chair with all his might, sending Brad straight into Wesker's door with a loud bang.

Everyone scrambled.

Joseph rolled up to his desk and went back to his computer; Barry and Chris straightened up and pulled random reports from their inboxes, and scribbled whatever nonsense they could conjure up; Jill went back to typing, pressing her lips together and silently praying Wesker wouldn't slaughter Brad on the spot, and then go after each of them one by one.

None too soon, heavy footsteps were heard on the other side of the door. Brad started to panic and began rolling himself back to his desk before—

"Vickers!"

_Shit._

Everyone, including Brad, winced at the sharpness of their captain's voice as he stepped out of his office. He approached Brad from behind and spun the chair so they were face to face. The color drained from Brad's face and his lips quivered; he looked like he was ready to drop to his knees and beg for his life.

"He's a dead man," Joseph whispered over his shoulder to Jill, who flicked his ear in reply. "Ow!"

Wesker's poker face was in place as he planted his hands on his hips. He gave Brad a look over before he scanning the rest of his team; expressions ranged from shocked to worried to frightened, and Wesker relished them all…but he knew better.

Brad shrank back in his seat as Wesker kneeled to eye level, replacing his poker face with a scowl. "How about we skip the scolding and cut right down to the questioning? What do you say, Vickers?"

Brad swallowed the lump in his throat. "I-I…questioning, s-sir?"

"Yes," Wesker drawled, amused by Brad's fear. "You know how often chaos breaks out in this office when I'm not around, and I'm sure—positive, in fact—that you know who the criminals are and what they do behind my back. Is that safe to assume?"

Brad looked all around Wesker, desperately trying to avoid eye contact (not that he could see past his captain's shades anyhow). "I…don't know, sir."

Wesker's poker face returned. He stood to full height, placing one hand on Brad's shoulder. "That's not what I wanted to hear, Vickers." He leaned in close. "I know someone put you up to this, since there isn't an ounce of courage in you to test me—_that_ is certain."

"You don't need to shred the guy's dignity to ribbons, Wesker," Chris chimed in and rose when Wesker looked over. "You're insulting him as a man and an officer."

"I don't believe I was speaking to you—"

"Yeah, well, you are now, so leave Brad alone." Chris tapped his chest. "It was _me_, alright? I did it. And for your information, Brad does have the guts to test anyone, especially _you_."

"Chris?" Joseph whispered harshly. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up," Chris seethed, keeping his eyes on Wesker. "I got this."

"Do you really?" Wesker asked with irritation. His fists tightened as he took a few steps towards Chris. Barry and Jill exchanged glances, and Joseph murmured numerous curses under his breath.

"Very well," Wesker continued, stopping in front of Chris with folded arms, "Explain yourself."

Chris faltered for a second before answering. "There's no explanation other than the fact that I pushed Brad into your door. I…just felt like messing with him, that's all."

"That's all?" Wesker mocked, making a sweep-like gesture to Brad. "Subjecting another officer to such ridicule for your own amusement is nothing short of unprofessional—and worse, you take it in stride as if Vickers' feelings aren't worth a damn, but of course, it's not the first time and it certainly won't be the last." He nodded to Jill, Barry, and Joseph. "I'm sure your teammates could attest to that. You lack so much discipline…" Then, his voice lowered; his tone was deep and filled with bitterness.

"You disappoint me."

Chris took a deep breath, not letting the words cut him as deep as Wesker would've liked. "It won't be the first time, _Captain_."

Wesker chuckled darkly as he moved into Chris' personal space, daring Chris to do or say something more, but the marksman refused to play. He had been through the intimidation and the mocking, even the degradation…too many times to count, in fact.

_And yet you keep stepping on his toes, _Chris thought. _When are you gonna stop all this nonsense? He's already lost a considerable amount of respect for you—don't push it._

A loud sigh escaped Jill as she pushed back her chair. It was time to put her big girl pants on. "It was me, Captain." She stood and shrugged, like it was no big deal. "I was pissed off about Brad not giving me the five bucks he owes, so I shoved him into your door, hoping he'd see that I meant business."

Wesker took a step back and gave Jill the most incredulous look that screamed, "What the fuck?" But of course, he didn't say that; the dearly beloved Alpha Captain didn't incorporate colorful language into his vocabulary unless someone _really_ pissed him off…or messed with his hair.

Wesker's chuckles filled the silent room. He peered over the top of his glasses at Jill. "You've got to be kidding me, Jill. You? No," he shook his head, "not if you were paid."

"That's just it, I wasn't," Jill protested. "The culprit is me and the victim is Brad. End of story."

"No, not end of story. I realize your good intentions, but you won't get far with this argument, given your standing on this whole matter. Don't try and play the hero, Jill."

"Tell that to Forest. He borrowed a quarter from Jill, and when he didn't pay her back so that she could get a gumball from the machine, she threw his uniform into the pool," Joseph added. "Over a quarter!"

"And you expect me to believe that, Frost?" Irritation was setting into Wesker's voice, which made Joseph sink back into his chair. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you. You're the first person on my list of suspects, so don't think you've eluded me by being silent over there. You reek of guilt."

"Boy, that's some nose you got on you, Wesker," Chris jabbed, suddenly feeling—what, excited?—to contribute to his captain's growing anger. "I can only smell bullshit right now…" Chris sniffed the air. "I wonder why…" He moved closer to Wesker and stopped. "Ah, so that's where it's coming from…"

Joseph and Brad laughed in unison, until the latter remembered the position he was in and clamped his hands directly over his mouth, holding his breath for fear of Wesker turning on him. Barry, who had remained quiet through the whole ordeal, couldn't help but chuckle silently, slowly bringing his hand to support his chin, cautious as to refrain from provoking the angry captain that stood not five feet from him. As much as he wanted to avoid getting in the mix with these two, Barry felt he had to put his foot down.

"Ok, that's enough, pal," Barry said, giving Chris a pat on the back. "Just sit down and relax." He gave Wesker an apologetic look. "Please forgive the kid, Captain. You know how he is when he's off the meds."

"You're not helping," Chris grounded out.

"Off the meds? When was the last time he was on them?" Wesker's smirked widened when Jill's light giggles floated towards him.

Chris frowned. "I'm glad you got that _hilarious_ joke out of your system, Wesker. I was beginning to think you didn't have a sense of humor."

"Likewise."

"Oh, so now the spotlight's on me?" Chris argued.

"You admitted your guilt, did you not?" Wesker argued.

"How do you know I'm not lying?"

Wesker sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, ready to face the oncoming headache. "I don't have time for good cop/bad cop, Chris. Therefore, until I find out the real perp, everyone will remain in this office—all night if it's necessary—unless I hear a confession."

Joseph opened his mouth to speak—

"A legitimate confession," Wesker added, immediately shooting Joseph down. He checked his watch. "Looks like its lunch time." He looked to his team and smiled. "I do hope you all won't mind the company of your dear captain."

* * *

The only sounds that filled the office were the munching and crunching, and even the occasional gulping from a swig of soda or water. Save for the numerous glances exchanged between himself and the others, Chris was ready to explode. Wesker—the nerve of him sitting there with his Tupperware full of nuked pasta, twirling the noodles with his plastic fork and savoring each saucy morsel…all the while, watching everyone from behind his shades (damn him).

Had it not been for Barry beside him to calm his nerves, Chris would've knocked Wesker off his chair and force-fed the pasta down his throat, since he liked it so much.

Chris swallowed the last of his turkey sandwich and wiped the trail of mayonnaise on the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He tossed the brown paper bag his lunch had come in into the trash, placing the last of its contents on his desk.

Gummy Bears.

_Oh jeez, Claire…_

Chris grinned as he tore open the King Sized bag, digging in to grab the strawberry bears crammed near the top. After piling them into his mouth, Chris offered the bag to Barry and then to Joseph and Jill across from him. They both nodded. Chris stood and walk around his table, not caring about Wesker's hard gaze on the back of his head. He poured a handful of bears into each of their palms, and moved on to Brad, who looked from the bag to Wesker, fearful he would say something; when his captain said nothing, Brad pulled a handful of sticky bears and nodded in thanks.

Chris moved to Wesker. "Want some bears?"

Wesker raised a brow at the candy in question, peering inside the plastic bag as Chris held it down for him. "Bears?"

"Yeah—Gummy Bears. Do you want some or not?"

Wesker pulled a green bear out and squished it between his fingers. "What is the purpose of these bears other than to cause cavities and health problems?"

"That's only if you eat too much, Captain," Jill piped in, popping the last few bears in her mouth.

"Really, it's not like its crack," Joseph added.

Wesker rolled his eyes. "Clearly," he said and bit a piece off the green bear, rolling it along his tongue. Tasting. Analyzing. He swallowed and reached in the bag for a small handful. He tasted the lemon one next.

"Good, huh?"

"Quite…but something tells me these bears serve as more than just a treat. Either you're trying to get on my good side, or your guilty conscience is weighing too heavily on that puny brain of yours. Which is it?"

Chris sighed and retreated to his desk. "Don't go there, Wesker. If you didn't notice, I offered to _everyone_ not just you, so technically, both your theories are wrong."

"I beg to differ…"

"You would," Chris countered, "but that's fine. I expected that."

"Clairvoyant, are we?" Wesker mocked, finishing off the last of his bears.

"Just observant."

"Hm."

The two stared each other down.

Silence, with the exception of the ticking from the wall clock.

Jill and Joseph exchanged looks; Barry rolled his shoulders, not quite feeling the tension that was present before. Brad remained still, looking back and forth between his captain and Chris.

"Do you have any more?" Wesker asked at last, breaking the tension just a tad more.

Chris popped a few more bears in his mouth. "More what?"

"More of those," Wesker nodded to the bag.

"Oh, these bears?" Chris smiled at his own ignorance. "I do, but I'm not sure how much. Hold on, let me count them one by one—"

"Nevermind."

"Easy, Wesker; don't get your jock in a twist. I was joking. Here." Chris sealed the bag and tossed it to Wesker, who caught it with one hand and opened it with the other. Everyone watched the spectacle before them as Wesker picked the bears off one by one, not bothering to relish the taste as he had done previously. After he'd nearly consumed the better half of the bag, Wesker looked up at his team, not embarrassed in the slightest, and scowled.

"I'm sorry, do you need something?"

_Nobody fuckin' laugh, _Chris thought. He cleared his throat. "I see you like them."

"They…have a particular taste that I find appealing, yes."

"Good to know."

Wesker didn't particularly like the mischievous sounding tone, but he pushed it aside for now, too satisfied with his new vice. He wasn't much of a candy eater, but there was something about these bears that made his taste buds come alive; it sure beat the hell out of the bitter coffee he was used to drinking, anyway.

Wesker tipped the bag back and polished off the stragglers before crumbling the bag in his hands. "Where did you get these?"

Chris shrugged. "I don't know. Claire put my lunch together this morning. She probably got them at the grocery store yesterday. I'll ask her, if you'd like?"

"If it's no trouble…"

"Of course not…" There was a slight pause before Chris added, "…well, there is something."

"Ah, there it is," Wesker said with a smirk. "I was wondering when you'd come up with a compromise. You wouldn't be Chris Redfield if you didn't."

"And that's why you're the captain, Captain. How about I get you a bag of bears every day for the whole week—"

"Here it comes…" Wesker mumbled as he crossed his legs.

"—if you drop the whole investigation situation we're in? Huh? Sounds like a fair deal, right?"

"Sounds like bribery, Chris. I suppose you _are_ eager to be discharged."

"You'd be in the same boat for accepting the bribe. Besides, I'm not the one who ate all the bears, Wesker."

"It would have been rude of me not to, after your generous offer. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Not really. So is that a yes?"

Wesker pursed his lips in thought, keeping his eyes locked on Chris. "A bag of bears to set you all free, hm?"

"Five bags."

"Very well—five bags of bears in exchange for the innocent…" Wesker extended his hand. "You have a deal, Chris."

Numerous sighs of relief echoed in the background as Chris' hand met Wesker's.

"Pleasure doing business, Wesker."

Wesker smirked as he dropped his hand to his side. "The pleasure is all mine." He checked his watch once more. "I suppose I've kept you all here longer than needed. In fact, since I'm in such a good mood, why don't you head home for the day? I need to stay behind and finish some work in peace…" He waved them away. "Before I change my mind…"

It didn't take long for everyone to pack up and file out. Joseph brought up the rear and before he could leave, Wesker called him back.

"A quick word, Frost."

Joseph waved to his team and walked over to Wesker, hoping he wouldn't take long. But that eager feeling to go home suddenly vanished, only to be replaced by dread at the sight of Wesker's venomous smile.

"You're not going anywhere, Frost."

"What are you talking about, Captain? Y-you made a deal with Chris; we all saw!"

"You must not have been paying much attention, then. For you see, I clearly said 'in exchange for the innocent,' and you, my boy, are far from innocent."

A dark chuckle erupted from Wesker.

"I told you that you reeked of guilt."

* * *

**So, I didn't really like how this drabble turned out, what with it being devoid of a plot and (really) a purpose. BUT, I suppose that's what some drabbles turn out to be. I realize it's pretty lengthy to be a drabble, but I'm HORRIBLE at writing short stories; I just have to get it all out. I guess you could say containment scares me? Any who, I just thought it would be kinda funny to have the Alpha Team torment each other (or, rather, Wesker), since time in the office with the same people every day would surely make anyone crazy. By the way, I couldn't help but laugh when writing the gummy bear scene hahaha Hope Wesker's change in perception towards them doesn't make him too OOC.**

**Let me know what you think! Drop me a PM or Facebook me! Thanks a bunch! GO TEAM WESKER! Until next time! – Lil V.**


	3. In My Dreams

**I thought about the other STARS members (yes, the dead ones) and thought I would write a small piece portraying them in Chris' "dreams"; however, he falls into a "limbo," if you will. But in this world, his STARS teammates aren't the only ones waiting for him…**

**I knew what I was writing in the beginning (until Wesker shows up) and then it all goes down from there lol In my opinion, anyway. I just got too into Chris and Wesker and their feelings towards each other, that I wrote WAY too much dialogue. I didn't want to delete it, though, only because I feel they have a confusing relationship with each other; so I figured I could have them rant a bit. Hope no one objects to that ;D**

**Very mild Wesker/Chris fluff…VERY MILD…if you squint X3 Yeah, there's so much dialogue between them…Feel free to shoot me. The scenes are quite embarrassing lol But whatever, you're all pervs anyways ;) Don't worry, it's nothing inappropriate.**

**Italics are for flashbacks.**

* * *

**In My Dreams**

Chris rolled over in his bed for the umpteenth time. Beads of sweat nestled on his forehead as he stared at the ceiling fan; he could faintly see the fan blades in the early light, and for a second, thought they were moving. His mind was playing tricks on him.

He wiped his sweat with the back of his hand and pulled the covers up to his chin, releasing a sigh before closing his eyes and waiting for sleep to take him.

* * *

White.

That's the best way Chris could describe…wherever he was when he opened his heavy eyes. There was a glow in the room, or at least it seemed like it. Chris couldn't tell; hell, for all he knew he had just yawned, and the tears in his eyes made his vision blurry.

_No…_He thought, rubbing them harshly. _Where the hell am I?_

Chris sat up, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to figure out what was going on. The white space surrounding him sent goose bumps along his arms.

"Hey, man. Are you lost?"

Chris' eyes snapped open, but they remained fixed on the ground.

_That voice…_

Footsteps echoed loudly in the void. Chris could tell they were boots, but…

He looked up, standing to his full height, with an expression full of shock.

"Forest," he breathed, and suddenly, he was teary-eyed—out of joy or sadness, it was impossible to determine.

Forest stopped and the color nearly drained from his face as his wide eyes traveled over Chris in disbelief. He stepped forward and looked into Chris' eyes, using all his might not to breakdown when he realized this grown man before him was his friend. His _old _friend.

"Chris. Is it…is it really you?" Forest shook his head, still unable to accept the fact that Chris Redfield was right in front of him, physically older and bulky in stature, more so than Forest could remember, but Chris nonetheless.

Chris pulled Forest into a tight hug and sobbed into his vest. "F-Forest…you sonova bitch. It _is _you."

"Goddammit, you fairy…" Forest mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent the waterfall of tears from escaping. It had been too long. The last time Forest had seen Chris was on that dreadful night in the Arklay Mountains. The Bravo marksman could still remember the conversation they had right before Forest boarded the chopper with his team.

"_You'll be fine," Chris assured as he helped Forest pack his gear. "It's probably just some idiot on acid hacking people up out there." He passed Forest a few magazine clips. "Remember, no matter what happens, keep your gun close—"_

"_It's my bundle of joy," Forest finished, zipping up his duffle bag and running gloved hands over his mullet. "Doesn't it seem a little odd? You know, getting these calls out of the blue?"_

_Chris shrugged. "Evil doesn't have a schedule, Forest. Like I said, it's probably nothing; you're freaking yourself out. Besides, if shit goes wrong out there," Chris pointed to his chest, "me and the others are coming after you. And I'll be right there blasting those dick-heads right beside you…"_

But that time never came.

Forest gave one last squeeze and pulled back. "I'll be damned," he said while inspecting Chris' form. "My princess is all grown up."

Chris laughed as streams of tears glided down his cheeks. "Yeah…" Was all he managed to say, still battling with joy and sorrow. He hadn't seen Forest since the mansion incident, and he hadn't changed at all—not one damn detail was out of place. Even the wounds inflicted during that horrible night were gone as though they were never there.

"What? No comeback?" Forest shook his head and crossed his arms. "Oh, Christopher, you disappoint me."

Chris laughed again, before wiping his tears. "You're still the same clown from back in the day."

He fondly remembered a time they poured sugar into the coffee pot in the break room at the RPD, and casually waited in the hallway for any poor soul that would dare drink their poison. Barry had been their first victim, spitting coffee all over the sink and wiping his mouth in disbelief. He eventually caught on and laughed it off like the good sport he was, making a promise not to tell the other STARS members about it. None too soon, victim number two came in with a stick up his ass as usual. Wesker liked his coffee black (and it made perfect sense since he was a bitter person anyways), which made Chris and Forest laugh even harder when Wesker spit up the sugary coffee all over his uniform, and then proceeded to examine the contents in the mug and the pot, wondering where the hell all the sugar came from. Forest and Chris ran to the stairs, laughing hysterically all the way to the STARS office.

Chris' features sank into a gloom, tears filling to the rims of his lids before spilling over. "I'm sorry, Forest," he said softly.

Forest raised a brow, taken aback by Chris' demeanor. "For what?"

"For letting you die," he admitted. "I told you everything would be OK. If I had known that we were pawns—"

"But you didn't know, Chris. None of us did. Yeah, things probably would've ended up different, but that's life; shit happens. I've already come to terms with myself; I'm dead and that's that." Forest looked around the room in thought. "But I'd kill to be alive again." He looked back at Chris. "Speaking of which, how old are you now?"

Chris wiped the tears from his face, hiding a grin behind his hands. "Forty…"

"Forty?! Damn, you can almost get a senior discount!"

"Yeah—that's what I've been looking forward to," Chris replied with a roll of his eyes. He sighed. "Guess it _has_ been a while…"

"You know, despite being a hair's short of looking like a fossil, you don't look so bad with those face pubes—"

"Chris!"

Chris whipped around to see Joseph approach them.

"Frost?"

"The one and _only_ Frost." Chris couldn't believe it: Joseph, like Forest, looked the same; the aftermath of the infected dog attack had ceased to exist. The red bandana he used to wear was still in its place, accompanied by his usual goofy expression that made Chris' heart ache even more.

Joseph tackled Chris to the ground and pulled him into a headlock. Chris laughed, letting the remainder of his tears fall as he dropped his defenses. With one final tug around Chris' neck, Joseph stood and put his arms up in victory.

"And the crowd goes wild!" Crowd cheers escaped his mouth. "Joseph Frost, the underdog, has finally defeated the champion Chris Redfield!" More crowd cheers and then a sigh. "Damn, it's like tackling a fuckin' bear." He narrowed his eyes. "You've gotten older."

" 's what I told him," Forest said. "He's an old-timer now."

_Is this really happening?_ Chris thought, still not understanding what the hell was going on. Did he really die or was this some sort of dream?

"Well, if it isn't Redfield…" Enrico strutted towards the group. The Bravo captain studied his face. "You might look older, but you still have that delinquent look in your eyes."

"Enrico…" Chris forced a smile. He was never fond of Enrico. Since the day he met the Bravo captain he never truly connected with him, not like he had with the others on the team. His presence gave Chris the feeling of putting a hand in a bucket of worms, and letting them curl and slither around his fingers. It was chilling.

_Let bygones be bygones…_

"C'mon, Captain, Chris wasn't as bad as me; let's not give him _too_ much credit," said Forest while nudging Chris in the shoulder.

"Huh, that goes without saying. It's a good thing both of you were on different squads…" Enrico pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, tapped one end against his palm, and lit the other end. "Woulda been hell…" His voice was distorted from the cig between his lips. He inhaled and blew the smoke off to the side. "Then again, I probably would've given you hell right back, had it been my own misfortune to have you both…" Another drag and a puff, before Enrico flicked the excess ash off the tip.

"Trust me, Enrico. I'm not exactly the same person anymore. A lot has changed since those days…and I mean a lot." Chris cleared his throat, feeling a wave of anxiety hit his nerves. "I just want you to know—I want all of you to know—that I have the utmost respect for you, not just as teammates, but as men. You are all better than I could ever hope to be. You sacrificed your lives to try and protect all the innocent people of Raccoon." Chris swallowed, hoping he wouldn't start crying again. "And…to me, you're all heroes. If everything wasn't so damn corrupt back then, then maybe you'd still be alive. If Umbrella didn't exist, then maybe…"

There was a moment of silence. It seemed everyone, not only took Chris' words to heart, but couldn't help but take a trip down memory lane, as painful and heart-breaking as it was to open that door again.

Forest rubbed the back of his neck. "Well shit, man…if anyone should be thanked, it should be you."

"No," Chris said with the shake of his head. "It shouldn't be me, Forest. You guys went through hell…"He looked away, pain and regret surfacing on his features. "And Jill and I…and Barry…we didn't know until it was too late. You guys could've been saved."

Enrico gave Chris' shoulder a squeeze. "Listen, Redfield. We were all a part of some sick, twisted game, and neither of us had any idea what it entailed." He took a drag and puffed out the smoke. "We were betrayed, deceived, blinded, even. Now erase all those negative words I just said and focus on the mission itself. We were sent to investigate murders in the Arklay Mountains, right?" Chris nodded. "Let's just say Umbrella wasn't involved and there really was some lunatic or cult running rampant out there, with all their little voo-doo shit going on and what not. How do you know things wouldn't have ended the same way as they did inside the mansion?" Chris said nothing. "You don't. So stop being a pussy and get over it. Alright? The sooner you do that, the easier it will be to make amends with yourself."

Chris snorted a laugh, nodding in understanding as he composed himself. "Thanks, Enrico. I guess it's been hard…I, uh, never got to say—"

"What, goodbye?" Enrico scoffed and flicked off the excess cigarette ash. "Huh. I ain't goin' anywhere…"

"I don't think any of us are, Captain," Forest said with a shrug as he picked at his nails. "We've been here for a while." He looked up at Chris with a grin. "Guess you'll have a lot of time to say goodbye, man."

"Hm," Enrico agreed before stepping on his cigarette butt. "Just don't turn into some pansy if you do; I don't want to have to backhand you."

"I think I'm more relieved to have been promoted to Alpha." Joseph mumbled to Forest, and looked just in time to avoid Enrico's fist.

"I'd take that back, Frost. In fact, if you didn't know what you do now, I'm pretty sure you would've stayed on Bravo, considering the sonuvabitch, psycho captain you two had."

A low blow.

"Enrico," Chris began calmly, "please don't bring _him_ up."

"Fuck Wesker," Enrico seethed. "I don't know why the hell you're still clinging onto him." He pulled out another cigarette and lit it—clearly, a nervous habit. "He's dead, ain't he? He died that night at the mansion?"

Chris took a deep breath and shook his head. His request not to mention Wesker fell on deaf ears.

"No. We thought he did, but when I was on Rockfort Island looking for Claire some years back, he was there." He scoffed at Enrico's surprised expression. "Yeah, I know…but he was different. He was…stronger and more powerful than anything I had encountered back in STARS." Chris shrugged. "We finally nailed him in Africa, though."

"How did you kill him?" Forest asked, like an eager child waiting for the climax of a movie.

"Two RPG's to the face. I doubt even _he_ could've survive that, infected or not."

Smoke trailed out of Enrico's nostrils. "Infected? With what, herpes?"

Forest and Joseph had burst with laughter. "That's what that bastard gets!" Forest howled and continued laughing.

"Hmph. Serves him right," Enrico added. "He didn't seem promiscuous in the least, but I knew he wasn't shy when it came to women."

"No, no," Chris shook his head, "not herpes…I'm not sure if it was the T-virus or…Whatever it was, it turned him into a B.O.W."

A deep, dark chuckle rumbled from behind Chris and made everyone jump, more out of surprise than anything.

"Ah, the primitive mind never ceases to amuse me. But you're wrong. The virus turned me into a god."

_Speak of the devil._

Chris closed his eyes and silently prayed that this was all part of his imagination, that his mind was testing him at the mention of his former captain. But it couldn't be; everyone else heard him too. Chris opened his eyes and scrunched his face in anger. There he stood—clad in the fitted black leather outfit Chris saw him in last, minus the heavy coat that Wesker usually wore with it.

The ex-Alpha captain crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head mockingly. "It does my heart good to see my subordinates again. How's life?" A dark chuckled shortly followed.

"You would know, you piece of shit." Enrico flicked ash off the cigarette.

"Oh, come now, Enrico…" Wesker chided, knitting his golden brows together. "Don't tell me you're still sore from that bullet wound I inflicted on you."

Enrico lunged at Wesker, but was blocked by Chris and held back by Forest and Joseph.

"Big fuckin' words coming from a dead guy! I-I'm fuckin' glad Redfield killed your ass!"

"Easy, Captain," Forest warned. "He's not worth it!"

"Oh, it'll be worth it once I land my foot in his ass! Let me go!"

Wesker clapped his hands in utter amusement. "Yes, do let him go, would you, Speyer? I just cannot contain my excitement anymore."

Enrico clawed at the arms around his stomach and shoulders, thrashing about like a caged animal and ready to fight Wesker head-on. "I'll kick your ass, you bastard! Just you fuckin' wait!"

The blond smirked and removed his dark shades. Sensitive, elongated pupils contracted in the white space they stood in, and returned to their normal size once adjusted. Everyone but Chris stared into the fiery infernos with a fearful expression.

"What do you say we test your theory, Enrico?"

"Enough, Wesker."

Wesker's eyes dimmed as they flicked to Chris, almost forgetting he was standing next to him. They locked stares, neither seeming to back down or retaliate. They just stood there, good and evil, right and wrong, staring each other down until Chris broke the ice.

"Just leave them alone. You've done enough already…"

_What?! No anger? No hatred? What the hell happened to you, Chris?! You hate this man. He's taken so much from you!" _His mind tried to reason, but despite what it tried to pound into his brain, Chris wouldn't listen. He knew what Wesker had done to him and the others, and knew that the man held no remorse for any of his actions…but a part of Chris looked beyond the monster Wesker had become.

In Chris' eyes, Wesker was still his captain, and he could never shake that feeling—not when they had gone through so much together.

_If Umbrella didn't fuck with his mind…_

"Do not interfere, Chris. You're selflessness isn't worth a damn, here." Wesker narrowed his eyes. "I suggest you step back."

"No." Chris stood in front of his friends.

"No?" Wesker chuckled. "Selfless _and_ naïve. It sure does bring back memories, doesn't it? How nostalgic..."

"Look, just cut the shit, OK?" Chris sighed and clenched his hands at his side. "I…I want to talk to you."

"Talk?" Wesker spat. "You want to _talk_? Well, isn't that the first sensible thing you've ever suggested…" He shook his head and returned his attention back to Enrico. "I'm busy right now."

"Too busy to speak with your marksman?"

Wesker had to chuckle at that. "Ex-Marksman, Chris. STARS doesn't exist and I'm not your captain anymore. If that's your plan to get your way, I suggest you opt for a different approach. Bringing up a past that was nothing short of a façade won't get you anywhere."

"Oh yeah?" Chris moved into Wesker's personal space; his eyes never left Wesker's blazing inferno eyes. "So you don't miss those days, huh?"

Enrico scoffed behind Chris. "Why would he, Redfield? The guy dug our graves beforehand."

Chris ignored Enrico. "Please, Wesker. Let's talk."

That seemed to rub Wesker the wrong way as he clenched his jaw muscles together. Thinking. Debating. Eventually, he stepped back in resignation, but his eyes never left the team. He slid his shades back on.

"Very well." He offered for Chris to lead the way, giving the two space from the others. Wesker gave a smirk before following behind Chris.

* * *

When they were far enough, Chris cleared his throat. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

The blond glanced at Chris from the corner of his eyes and sighed. "I suppose."

A nervous tick caused Chris to rub the back of his head. "So…how are you?"

Wesker stopped. "_This_ is what you wanted to talk about? Not why I wanted to rule the world, not why I betrayed STARS, or even why I faked my death, but, rather, how I'm doing?"

"I'm just being polite. You're dead, afterall."

"And your point is…?"

Chris rubbed his moist eyes. "You don't have to be a dick-head, that's my point. I haven't seen you in years. You'd think this place would have calmed that temper of yours, what with not succeeding in world domination and releasing your precious virus."

"Hm. I have you to thank for that. Sticking your nose in places it shouldn't be…no surprise there."

Awkward silence.

"Do you remember when I would stay out after lunch was over, and you'd come looking for me, pissed off like a bat outta Hell, because I didn't want to go back and finish my reports? Where did you always find me?"

There was a spark of hope behind Chris' glazed eyes as he waited for Wesker to answer. The blond wanted to knock the BSAA agent down. Was Chris serious? And just where was all this soft-hearted…

_What would I even call it? _Wesker thought. _Chris does _not _act this way, not in my presence._

"You're joking, right?" Wesker said finally. "Tell me you're joking, Christopher, because I refuse to play this game of yours."

"Not so fun being on the receiving end, huh?"

Wesker growled and grabbed Chris by the shirt with one hand, his forehead inches from touching his own. "Perhaps I'm not making myself clear. Although I find your ignorance highly amusing, do refrain from asking stupid questions when in my presence. I'd much rather you scream your pathetic lungs out about how much you hate me than play, "Let's humor Chris!" STARS is dead and so am I. Leave the past alone. What transpired between us back then was all part of the plan. Let. It. Be."

Chris was shoved away and Wesker stormed passed him without another word. Chris tightened his meaty fists. It was one thing to insult him—which Wesker often did—but to walk away without giving Chris the attention he deserved (because Wesker sure as hell owed him that much) was a kick to the nuts.

"Hey! I'm fuckin' talking still, asshole!"

"You seem to love the sound of your own voice. Have at it." Wesker called over his shoulder.

"What?!" Chris growled. It was just like Wesker to feed the flames and not give a shit who got burned. But Chris did. He charged his ex-captain head-on and tackled him from behind. They both struggled on the ground, exchanging punches and fighting to pin the other.

"You'll never change, you son of bitch!"

"Same old song and dance, Chris. You'll always be ten steps behind!"

Chris went for a headlock, knocking the shades off Wesker's face, but Wesker easily slipped away and slammed him to the ground.

"Yeah, well I hate you! H-A—"

"You're so pathetic, Chris! You can't even say it without making sure it's spelled right!"

Wesker straddled Chris and pinned his arms to his side. "Get off!"

"You see? You always throw a fit when things don't turn out right for you," Wesker mocked, hovering only inches from Chris face. The younger man's heavy breaths passed through Wesker's loose, blond tendrils hanging just above his brows. Chris couldn't help but stare into the pools of lava that bore into his own blue eyes. It was unreal…somewhere behind those orbs of evil lay stone-blue eyes that Chris only saw a handful of times back in the day…before Umbrella…before the virus...

_Before we became enemies…_

"What are you staring at?" Wesker's tone had dropped to a more appropriate level, which Chris was thankful for; he was starting to get an earache with all the screaming.

"Your eyes," Chris said simply. "They say a lot about you."

Wesker bared his perfect white teeth in frustration. "You're delusional, Chris."

"There's a lot of pain and anger behind them Wesker," Chris continued. "I've never seen so much in all my life."

A strong hand wrapped itself around Chris' throat and squeezed. "Your life is _nothing_. What nerve you have to assume you know _anything_ about me!"

"I…ugh-have that pain…too," Chris choked out, struggling to take in any air. "Gah…you and I…we are op-opposites…but we have felt the same pain…" Tears drizzled down either side of his face.

Wesker tightened his hold, eyes burning like hot coals. "I should just end your existence right now and save someone else the trouble of doing so in the future." His grip tightened and he sneered in mock delight. "It was an honor to be your nemesis…goodbye, Chris Redfield."

Black dots swarmed his vision, as Chris desperately struggled to breathe. His head started to spin and a painful, throbbing sensation pounded his forehead.

_Fuck no…not like this…_

Chris swung his freehand over and grabbed ahold of Wesker's loose hair, receiving a deep, animal-like growl in response. Wesker's grip loosened. "Release me, you fool. Accept your fate."

Tears pooled over Chris' eyelids and streamed down his face. He didn't usually cry, especially not in front of the man he so admired and hated at the same time…but this was different. He wouldn't let Wesker carry out this awful deed, no matter how many of his attempts failed. Right now, Chris needed to let his feelings out; he didn't know when he'd ever see the blond again.

"Wesker…I…I have felt your pain. Umbrella, they betrayed you…like you betrayed me." Chris couldn't control himself now. He was downright balling his eyes out. That took Wesker by utter surprise. He'd never seen Chris cry, even when the blond had dragged him through Hell and back and nearly broke him to pieces.

Wesker released his grip, but kept his hand over Chris' neck. "Do you know how awful you made me feel after that night at the mansion?" Chris took in the fresh air and sighed, trying to calm his heartbeat. "I was never the same after that. I looked up to you—we all did—and you crushed us without mercy." Another trembling intake of air and a sigh. "And when I found out you were alive, I couldn't have been happier, because I knew that I was given a second chance to end you myself."

The blond instinctively wiped the tears lingering at the corner of Chris' eyes, and pulled back just as fast, cursing himself for his 'human' actions.

"And you know, after I ended you in Africa, I didn't feel any different. I thought I would feel accomplished, satisfied…happy. But I didn't. In fact…I was miserable." Chris released his hold on the blond strands and brought his hand to hold Wesker's cheek, grazing a thumb over a golden brow.

Wesker's eyes widened, still not being able to comprehend Chris' unusual actions. The crying, the confessing…the _touching_.

"There's not a day that goes by where I don't think of you, Wesker."

There it was—Chris Redfield's confession out in the open. He practically ripped his own heart out of his chest and held it out to Wesker, offering it like some sacrifice in exchange for forgiveness.

"So…according to you, it seems that I am the cause of your suffering, hm?" Wesker gritted his teeth and held Chris' face in his hands. "Is that what you're trying to imply?"

Chris swallowed hard, too weak to turn away from Wesker's crimson eyes; they searched his face, awaiting a response from trembling lips. "The cause of my suffering and the remedy for my pain—you are both of these, Wesker."

"You imbecile," Wesker seethed, pressing his forehead against Chris'. "You really have lost your mind, haven't you? The Chris I know—the Chris I _knew_—would never stoop so low as to admit his feelings, especially when they're directed towards _me_." He narrowed his eyes. "You are weak. How could you even fathom that you and I could _ever_—"

What Chris did next threw Wesker for a complete loop, as he pressed his lips to the blonde's—no more than a few seconds—and pulled back, their lips parting with a _smack_. Time had frozen…or Chris stopped breathing. He really didn't know. He merely watched Wesker's eyes move from side-to-side, up and down, searching for an answer, an excuse—anything to explain what the hell just happened, and waited for Wesker to rip him apart.

It never happened.

"Just shut the hell up already, Wesker. At least I'm man enough to admit everything I've kept inside. You act like you've never had feelings for anyone or anything!"

"I never have and never will." Wesker said in denial, and removed himself from Chris and stood. Chris did the same. "However…since we're having a touching family circle moment, I'll humor you this final time." He bent over to retrieve his glasses. "You are by far the most challenging human being—"

"Person—just fuckin' say person."

_I see the God Complex is still there…_

"The most challenging _person_ I've ever encountered in all my life and because of this…" Wesker shifted his weight, hesitating. "…I…I admire you, Chris. Though my IQ might be lowered momentarily for admitting that, I assure you it's true." He placed his shades over his eyes, leather rubbing together as he crossed his arms.

"In regards to your nostalgic STARS, there was a reason I let you get close…" He paused as if for effect. "I wanted to watch you crumble in despair at the betrayal of your dear captain. But since the beginning, I knew you would prove to be a challenging foe—easy to get along with, but damn hard to break. So I opened my arms and wore my mask for you and the others, hoping you'd all trust me with your lives." He smirked. "And I must say, it couldn't have been easier—like snakes to the mongoose."

The pain carved into Chris' heart deeper than it ever did. What Wesker did wasn't breaking news; Chris didn't need to be reminded. But the way Wesker had let the words escape him without the slightest touch of remorse, even after all this time…it made Chris sick.

"I can't believe you…" Chris ran his hands through his hair and looked away.

"Oh?" Wesker cocked his head to the side. "Are those feelings you have for me suddenly tasting bitter?"

Chris gritted his teeth, whipping his head to face Wesker. "It doesn't matter what I feel, obviously, so what's the point? But you…Fuck, who the hell cares? It's always been about you." Chris shook his head and turned on his heel. "I'm done here."

"Ever the hypocrite…You're going to walk away…" Wesker made a few 'tisks' with his tongue. "Not very mature of you, _Captain_."

Chris stopped completely, tensing as the last sentence played over in his head.

_"You disobeyed a direct order, Chris," Wesker growled, slamming a file down onto his desk. "And now the RPD is being held responsible for the damages."_

_ "Hey, if it wasn't for me, that civilian and others like her would be dead, Wesker! Property damage should be the least of your problems!"_

_ "That's not the point, you idiot. Think about it! You've caused more damage than you prevented!" Wesker brushed past Chris towards the office exit. "Unbelievable!"_

_ "Oh yeah, just walk away! That's not very mature of you, Captain!"_

Chris looked over his shoulder and glared. "I guess some habits die hard, huh?" He continued on his way.

* * *

"What do you think they're talking about?" Joseph asked, pulling his bandana down from his chin, having put it over his mouth like a bandit. "They really haven't moved from that spot."

"Hmph. Well, if tackling Wesker will help solve Redfield's dilemma, then by all means…" The Bravo captain took a long drag and blew the smoke to the side. "'Sides, he's the only one who knows Wesker best, not that I give a shit, but if anyone needs to beat the hell out of that infected fuck, it's Redfield."

"Oh look! Now he's walking away…" Forest's surprise slowly fell into confusion. "Now Wesker's going after him…they're arguing...Damn, they're like a married couple—" Forest pressed his lips together, hoping to contain the laughter trapped within, but couldn't help himself; he rolled on his side, laughing into his hands.

"You're probably right on some level, Forest," Enrico agreed, "but I don't think either of those two sees each other in that way." He scratched his chin, analyzing his former colleagues as they now stood about a foot from each other. "But they always have been pretty close…Nah—I think being here too long has messed with our perception."

"It might be those cigarettes, Captain."

Enrico eyed his stick for a moment and shook his head. "Shut the hell up, Forest."

"Uh-oh…"

"What now, Frost?"

Joseph raised a hand to Enrico. What was once flesh and bone began to fade into nothing and then reappearing, flickering back and forth—transparent like a ghost. His spirit energy was starting to fade.

"Me too." Forest revealed the fading of his palms. "We gotta tell Chris."

* * *

"Let go of me, Wesker."

Wesker pulled Chris' shirt collar harder. "No."

"Ah, you're gonna rip the damn thing! Let me go!"

"Not until I finish saying what I need to." Lava colored eyes glanced over at the other STARS members. "Then you can go back to your group of misfits."

"Fuck, fine!" Chris pushed off Wesker's chest and folded his arms in a huff. "Make it snappy, alright?"

Before Wesker could snarl and retort something awful to Chris, he looked down at his hands, watching as they faded—he was running out of time. Chris followed his stare and scrunched his face in confusion.

"What's happening, Wesker?"

Wesker looked over to see the others walking towards them. "It would seem we are running out of time."

"What?" Chris shook his head. "No-you, you haven't finished…you haven't said what you were gonna say!"

Wesker removed his shades and sighed. "Let's not overexcite ourselves, Chris—"

"No, bullshit! Tell me, Wesker! Tell me what you need to say before you disappear on me!"

Chris was pulled in and tightly bound against Wesker's chest, as strong arms encircled his shoulders. Chris gasped into his ex-Captain's shoulder, wide-eyed and afraid his spine would be snapped in half.

"I always knew there was something special about you, Chris." Wesker whispered into Chris' ear. "Such a shame fate had other plans for us. Despite our lifelong game of cat and mouse, you proved yourself over anyone I have ever encountered."

Chris lips trembled. "W-Wesker…What are you—"

"Though I regret to say," Wesker continued, "I may never see you again; I want you to know that, despite the violence and bloodshed, it was an honor to be your captain, and a privilege to know you." He frowned against Chris' ear at the sound of his sobs. "It's not the end of the world. Perhaps in another life—" Wesker held Chris at arm's length—"we will meet again."

As Wesker began to fade, Chris bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out. He managed to say, "Why, Wesker? Why do you always have to make me suffer?"

Wesker—for the first time since Chris could remember—genuinely smiled. "The cause of your suffering and the remedy to your pain…" Wesker's body continued to fade. It wasn't until his face started to dematerialize that Chris noticed the change in Wesker's eyes. The smoldering red eyes that were once the epitome of evil faded into the mesmerizing stone-blue that Chris remembered staring at each time Wesker removed his glasses all those years ago.

"No, Wesker. Please, don't leave me!"

_Don't leave me…_

"Redfield." Enrico wrapped an arm around Chris shoulder and squeezed, separating him from Wesker. "It was good seeing you. Tell the others we said hi. Oh, and Barry still owes me money—refresh his memory for me."

"Later, man," Forest stepped in and did some fancy handshake known only to he and Chris. "Hope to see you again. But not too soon! You need to keep the world safe a bit longer." He gave Wesker a look, to which the blond rolled his eyes.

Joseph came from behind and grounded his fist into Chris' scalp. "Seeya, buddy. Say hi to Jill for me," he said with a wink.

"Alright, Frost, leave the kid alone." Enrico grabbed Joseph by the ear and yanked him to the side. "Shit, he's gonna question if this was all real once he wakes up. Don't traumatize him." He nodded to Forest. "Let's get going. See you on the other side, Redfield." The trio turned and walked away, fading with each step until they disappeared completely.

Only he and Wesker remained.

"Now that those lovely goodbyes are out of the way, I do believe it's time I take my leave." He turned to follow the others' footsteps, until Chris reached out and grabbed Wesker's arm.

"Please…don't…"

Wesker furrowed his brows as he turned back to face Chris. "I must. Unless you'd like me to vanish in front of you…"

"I just…you'll be gone forever…" Chris buried his face into Wesker's shoulder, shaking his head in denial. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

What remained of Wesker's arms wrapped around Chris in reassurance. "You have stuck it out before, and you can do it again, now. Be brave, Chris; you're good at that."

Chris inhaled Wesker's scent for the final time and pulled back. "Being brave won't change things, Wesker.

A chuckle escaped Wesker. "Stubborn as always. I suppose the Redfield trait has never shined brightest." Wesker placed his sunglasses in Chris' palm, and closed his fingers over them. "Farewell, Chris. I look forward to seeing you again someday." He narrowed his eyes. "You'd do well not to keep me waiting."

A ghost of a smile hit Wesker's lips. He gave a nod and turned away, disappearing only after a few steps.

It was then that Chris dropped to his knees and cried out his ex-Captain's name, as his screams echoed into the void with no one around to hear them.

* * *

Chris bolted up from his position in bed, face and chest covered in sweat as he sat there breathing heavily. He wiped his forehead and looked down, feeling something in his grasp. His eyes widened in shock when his fingers lifted one by one to reveal a pair of black sunglasses.

* * *

**Finally! Lol This chapter took forever. I wanted to explain a few things; since I have a strong feeling some of you guys might have questions. Here's what's going on:**

**Chris fell into a deep sleep (I guess you could consider it a death-like state) that put him in limbo with the STARS members and Wesker. He met with them, because he didn't have the chance to express himself or make peace with any of them, which is why they were there and why Wesker appeared shortly after.**

**I know some of you may think Wesker was OOC, but before you think that, let me clarify. Wesker no longer had anything to live for (pun intended) and had no problem revealing past feelings and events to Chris, even if they were at the expense of his calm and collective nature; what would be the point of making peace so Wesker (and Chris) could move on if they didn't cooperate? Yes, you can tell Wesker's still being a dick to Chris and the others (which I still had him retain), but just because he got a little soft for Chris doesn't mean he's OOC. See, I really think, deep down, Wesker felt something for Chris on a Platonic level, but while he was alive they treated each other like enemies. I also feel that with Wesker dead, Chris really doesn't have much of a purpose: through each and every turn, Wesker was there. I think that's mainly the reason why Chris is pretty miserable throughout the RE 6 game; I don't really think it was because his unit was killed in front of him that he turned into a drunk, and why he blames himself. I mean, aside from Jake being in the game (and finding out he's Wesker's son), Wesker was mentioned too much; to me, he's the dark side of Chris and Chris feels sorta empty without him. That's just me, but seriously, I don't buy Capcom's BS. I think Chris' feelings go deeper than that, which is why he's crying so much in this chapter. (Yes, Chris can cry; he has too much internal conflict). Again, my opinion.**

**I truly feel that, had it not been for Umbrella's evil influence, Wesker, probably, wouldn't have been such a bad guy—a hard ass, stoic, asshat, but not a cruel, evil person. That's just my opinion, and felt I should write something up like this. Hate it or love it, it's your call. I hated it at first, but I think I really like it now, showing you guys what those two had locked up inside for a long time. Sorry for the long note -_- If you have any questions that you still need me to clarify, don't hesitate to ask :D I'd also like to hear your opinions/views on this (or on the whole Chris and Wesker situation). Reviews are appreciated! GO TEAM WESKER! Until next time! – Lil V.**


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